This year, for the first time, I visited the Naval base where my husband spent most of his career. It was my first time on the base, and like every other base we’ve visited, it left me awestruck. Being there allowed me to start grasping the true magnitude of his life experience.
I thought I had some great life experiences. I’ve worked at some of the largest corporations in the world, and I’ve flown around the globe for work. My experiences pale in comparison to his at the military base.
The difference lies in the contrasting constructs of corporations and the military. Corporations focus on making a product. Their learning and growth experiences are designed to make you more efficient at producing that product. Corporate direction can change with a new CEO or manager. When you work for large corporations, you receive some of the best training in the world, funded by substantial budgets. You work all over the world. I was pretty confident in my experiences.
Yet, when I stepped on this base, my experience seemed insignificant compared to what my husband experienced. The whole base was created to make a product, and that product was the individual. The base had some of the most advanced equipment on earth for training. Multiple layers of command provided numerous avenues for mentorship. There was a consistent focus on messaging. I saw their flight operations, the hangars for the airplanes, and the enormous training facilities. All this effort was funneled into creating individuals with dedication, determination, patience, and adaptability.
I was proud of him before this visit, and I was even prouder after. The stay at the base expanded my understanding of what it means to be part of the military family and how positive it feels to be part of something bigger than oneself.
One of the things I realized on the base is the incredible bravery of each individual who becomes a soldier. In corporate America, my biggest risk was putting my annual bonus on the table. That’s not a real risk; it’s like playing Monopoly.
The decision to become a soldier is a huge commitment that includes putting your life on the line daily. It’s been hard for me to understand the true sacrifice in that decision because I never had to face that level of bravery. In reality, I’ve given up very little in my life. I think that’s true for most of us, and I point to consumerism to show just how little we sacrifice.
In our world of self-gratification, everything is fine as long as it’s easy. But hit a speed bump, and it’s “exit stage left.” This attitude has made marriages almost impossible today. Conflict has become intractable instead of an opportunity to become better. We need to develop better relationship skills, and part of that is understanding dedication.
What I saw in my husband was a clear understanding of dedication. He knew that things take effort, patience, and repetition. He was willing to try again and try something different. When I visited the base, I realized he had trained in the meaning of dedication. What a great training. Imagine if we had courses on dedication, adaptability, or patience?
I’m not suggesting that our marriage has been perfect. Like every marriage, it’s been full of hiccups, roadblocks, and flat-out train wrecks. The truth is, being a soldier means having life experiences that often don’t fit into the civilian world. It means facing personal conflict, witnessing acts of violence, and understanding the dangers of accidents. It means facing fear, if not terror, and being put in survival situations. It means risking your life regularly. Those experiences change each soldier at a core level.
Yet, I could always feel and know I could rely on his dedication and determination. His dedication made him better than me in many ways because it involved understanding sacrifice.
I serve many veterans in my clinic, a conscious decision rooted in my respect for their hardships and self-sacrifice. I wanted to serve veterans because of my background and my immense respect for what they have done for us. The most beautiful aspect of this service is seeing the same dedication in each veteran I meet. There is a consistency and commitment to others that shines through.
Each veteran has their own story, filled with levels of personal trauma that most people, including myself, have never experienced. Yet, beneath it all is this fundamental core value system centered on others. This core value system has been critical in my marriage.
I know for those of you who are married to combat veterans, this might seem a little too idealistic or straight out of a storybook. Well, that’s because this blog isn’t about the train wrecks. It’s about what helped us get past the train wrecks.
To each of the veterans who have graced my clinic: Thank you, and a happy Memorial Day to you.
If you’re a veteran or a member of a veteran family and want to be a part of a clinic that has experience in the life of a military family, feel free to contact the office at 360-841-7448 or schedule a virtual appointment by clicking here.